


The Woman He Remembered

by Pigeon_theoneandonly



Series: Nathaly Shepard [5]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fighting, Horizon (Mass Effect), kaidan POV, mending hearts and breaking them in one scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22825291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeon_theoneandonly/pseuds/Pigeon_theoneandonly
Summary: Kaidan Alenko reunites with Nathaly Shepard on Horizon, from Kaidan’s point of view.
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard
Series: Nathaly Shepard [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255094
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26





	The Woman He Remembered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citadelsushi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citadelsushi/gifts), [MaxRev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxRev/gifts), [pushingsian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushingsian/gifts), [TheXGrayXLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXGrayXLady/gifts).



> AN: This story is a mirror to the Horizon scene I wrote in Chapter 34 of my ME2 long fic, Mass Effect: Labyrinth, with the perspective shifted from Shepard to Kaidan. It was written in response to a prompt. Some minor elements may lack context for new readers.

_Nathaly._

Reverberating inside his skull, the only word Alenko could remember. _Nathaly, Nathaly._ Covered in Horizon mud, hands at her mouth, eyes so wide and blue. _Nathaly._

Another jolt as she spoke, a thick and muffled and half-forgotten voice he’d recognize anywhere. “I thought you were on the ship.”

All he could do was shake his head. _Nathaly_. 

He started forward, just a twitch of his leg, and abruptly remembered the weight dragging on his arm. Samantha, still limping, and looking at him like he’d lost his mind. His gun slipped from his hand. She slid down just as easily. He did his best to lower her gently, despite an urgency rising him in like a wave, to close the distance. Another few words, rough. “Come here.”

She needed no further encouragement. As if he’d broken some sort of spell, she jogged towards him. Alenko ran the last few steps to meet her, arms crushing her to him with a will of their own. 

Every morning since she died, a small portion of his mind devoted itself to counting, a ritual born in waiting on Alchera with a whisper-thin hope, clutched in grief like a razor blade, and clung to like a bad habit. The number came instantly: two years, two months, two days, exactly, and his face buried in the crook of her neck felt not a single second of it.

His fingers slid into her hair. Her fists took up bunches of his shirt, pulling stuck fibers from the seeker’s puncture wound in his shoulder, but the pain couldn’t touch him. A thousand daydreams since Miranda brought him to Lazarus and he’d left her there, and none of them lived up to the real thing, warm and breathing and pressing a smile into his cheek.

He pulled back to see her face. Opened his mouth—

Nathaly pressed forward and brushed her lips to his. And then jolted back, as if she’d startled herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— I kept telling myself it’s been two years, you need space, I couldn’t just assume—”

Two years, two months, two days. Seven months since he abandoned her to a Cerberus lab. And she still wanted to kiss him.

His hand touched her face. She babbled on. “I’ve just been wanting to see you so much, and I was afraid that—”

He leaned forward and kissed her back with everything he had in him.

Her lips parted instinctively and she somehow squeezed him even closer. He couldn’t stop a small stifled noise of both answered and growing need. His fingers tightened in her hair. It could have been a minute or an hour when she finally slid away. He drank in her in with his eyes, baffled and delighted and with just a ghost of fear. “You don’t have to apologize. That’s the only thing I’ve wanted for two years.”

She kissed him again— oh, god, could she never stop doing that— and repeated, “I thought you were on that ship.”

His arms slid to her hips, his forehead bending to hers. Softly. “I wasn’t.”

Nathaly let out a sob, his Nathaly, who only cried once during the entire war and even that he had to draw out of her like a poison, and buried her face in his shoulder. He said, into her hair, “How are you here?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have some time.”

Nguyen entered his field of vision, storming up to them with a murderous look. Until that moment, Alenko hadn’t even registered she was there. “Sir, what is going on here? You know her?”

His eyes slid back to her, wryly. She hid a smile. “You could say that.”

And if Nguyen was there, so was North, her ever-present shadow speaking up from her hiding place under the defense cannons’ control terminal. “She’s Shepard. Of course they know each other.”

“She’s that Shepard?” Nguyen glanced between them, gears turning in her mind. Alenko’s stomach sank. “Holy shit. You’re Project Lazarus.”

She stepped back and raised her gun. Nathaly blinked. “You know about—”

And that was the moment Alenko realized nobody had told her about his visit to the station, while Cerberus… did whatever it was they did to put her back together. That he left her alone in a lion’s den, because the only alternative was to accept a recruitment offer that flew in the face of everything they both believed. His mouth went dry.

“We’ve been investigating Cerberus a long time,” he said, the words tumbling out in knee-jerk self-defense before he could think it through. Knowing, instinctively, that if she found out now, it could destroy them forever, and he couldn’t lose her again. Not like that. Fear was stronger than shame. “We thought they could be behind these attacks.”

Nguyen’s aim held very steady. “And I guess we got our answer.”

Garrus stepped between them. _Garrus?_ “I think you should let her explain. Hi, Kaidan.”

It said something that his sudden reappearance after months of radio silence was the least weird thing to happen today. “Garrus.”

He folded his arms, addressing Nathaly. “We should contact the other teams. Let them know it’s over. And… maybe try to explain thing to the Alliance personnel.”

“Do it,” she said, as Alenko stared. Other teams implied she brought a whole squad here. Where did she get a squad? How long had she been awake?

Last he saw Liara, on Omega, after the disastrous return to Lazarus Station and finding it in pieces, she tried to convince him there was still hope. He told her that there was no chance in heaven or hell that Nathaly would not have contacted them.

They were still holding each other. He winced as her fingers found the puncture. Her concern was instantaneous. “You’re hurt—”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, thoughts still chasing each other in circles. Garrus was here, and he himself had no idea Nathaly was even alive.

“The hell it isn’t. Mordin—”

A salarian appeared. Kaidan let him settle him on the ground, as Nathaly made introductions. “This is Mordin Solus. He’s a doctor. He developed our counter-agent for the swarms.”

“Swarms you released,” Nguyen spat. Alenko gave her a truly annoyed look. It seemed even a Collector assault couldn’t take the edge of her legendarily poor sense of time and place.

Nathaly’s expression mirrored his own. “Yes, I definitely brought the Collectors here just so I could risk my ass driving them away. You saw me fighting them. Did that look fake to you?”

“Nguyen, stand down,” he ordered, at the end of all energy and patience. She muttered darkly but returned to North. The salarian, Mordin, continued his examination. His eyes slid back to Nathaly as he worked, trying his best to put aside his worries. He’d dreamed of seeing her again for so long. It was unthinkable that she hadn’t realized what he went through when she died, that she’d be that cruel. “I wondered how you avoided the swarms.”

She scooted aside to let Mordin proceed. He missed her immediately. Her head tilted. “How did you manage?”

“Dumb luck, with a little biotics thrown in.” Mordin flicked him between the eyes. “Ow.”

“Unequal pupil dilation,” Mordin reported. Even through a translator he had an odd manner of speaking, delivering staccato sentences like Morse code. “Migraine symptom.”

“You took your meds?” Nathaly asked.

His reply came out sharper than he meant. “No, because I’ve only been dealing with this problem for twenty years.”

Her skin was too dark to show a flush, but he’d learned to read her embarrassment, in the way she pulled back slightly, the small contraction of her pupils. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He shook his head. Repeating to himself that there must be an explanation, that she wouldn’t leave him waiting for no reason. Pushing back against the hurt rising inside him. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. And I’m absolutely starving.”

It sounded lame even to his ears. Mordin stood, apparently not done stating the obvious. “Biotic fatigue. Low energy, increased appetite, sluggish response to stimulus.”

Nathaly dug through a belt pouch. “I’ve got something. Here.” She handed him an energy bar. “Here. I’m famished all the time these days. Guess that’s what I get for being on a liquid diet for two years.”

He seized upon the food. It had been years since he cut loose like that, and he hadn’t even eaten breakfast. But it was going to take more than a few bites to settle his stomach. “About that. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“You don’t seem as surprised as I expected.” More than a hint of suspicion there.

He shook his head, and told the most immediate truth. “After this day, I don’t think I have anything left to be surprised.”

For a moment it seemed like she’d press him, but then she let it go, wrapping her arm through his. “The circumstances are terrible, but I’m so glad you’re here. You’re the only person I’ve wanted to see since I woke up.”

The only person she’d wanted to see, and she hadn’t called. “How are you here?”

She looked into his face. Searching, and lost. “It’s… complicated.”

He disentangled his arm and levered himself to his feet, crumpling the wrapper. “I need your medi-gel. My specialist is hurt.”

Across the grass, Samantha offered him a look that was very put-out. He felt a wince of guilt. Leaving a tourniquet on someone a second longer than it had to be there was unconscionable, but he could only hold so much in his head at one time. Nathaly’s abrupt return took up a lot of it. 

Nathaly stood up beside him. “Let Mordin do it.”

“Happy to help,” said Mordin, as he hurried off towards his next patient. He watched him crouch down beside her as she gestured to her leg. Explaining, no doubt, about the Collectors at the jamming tower.

He looked back at Nathaly. Her brow furrowed. “Kaidan, what is it?”

His answer came slow. “The Alliance sent me here to figure out who’s behind these colony abductions. The Collectors have no reason to go to war. And Lazarus was a Cerberus project. Nathaly, I really need a straight answer.”

“The Collectors are working for the reapers,” she said. “They brought husks.”

“I know. I saw them.” Not allowing her to move off the point.

She touched his face. “Kaidan, it’s me. You can talk to me.”

And that was when he said the first unforgiveable thing, the words sliding out of his mouth like snakes. Because she wouldn’t respond to even the simplest of questions, not even from him, and they’d built more trust than that. “Is it?”

Her whole body rocked back as if he’d struck her. “How can you say that?”

“Where have you been?” He’d never felt so forlorn.

But before she could answer, the whine of a shuttle filled the sky. They both looked up. Nathaly paled. Kaidan craned his neck, and saw the flash of orange and black. His blood turned to ice. It wasn’t possible. She wouldn’t… She’d never…

The shuttle settled on the field. The door swung open, and a woman he never expected to see again stepped out. Miranda Lawson in all her uniformed Cerberus glory. Seeing her, reading the implication that this was Nathaly’s other team and all the baggage that went with that, was a suffocation.

Nathaly’s face showed only distress. He stepped between them, reaching for a rifle that wasn’t there, seeing only a single possible explanation for this travesty. His words came like bullets. “What did you to her?”

Miranda stared back at him. Weighing, perhaps, how much to say, what to tell. “I saved her life.”

Nathaly touched his arm. “It’s ok. I can explain—”

But he took another step towards Miranda. Furious as he’d rarely been before. After all her big talk about keeping Nathaly the same, wanting her exactly as she was, it turned out to be just another Cerberus mind game. “Cerberus assassinated an admiral. You kept people as living subjects for biotic experiments.” He jabbed a finger back towards Nathaly. “You killed her entire goddamn squad. She’d never be here with you. What did you do to her?”

“Ask her yourself,” Miranda answered coldly. Then she turned back to the shuttle, and began issuing orders to the rest of her crew.

He turned back. Begging Nathaly with every line of his posture to explain, to lift this veil of madness. To keep the world from sliding sideways just like she always did. 

She licked her lips. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Kaidan stared at her. One second she was Nathaly, and now she was someone he barely recognized. Some foreigner wearing the love of his life like a disguise. “How long have you been back?”

Her hand went to her throat. As if she could barely get the words out. “Only six weeks.”

The last thin line of hope snapped. “Six weeks.”

“I didn’t know what to say—”

“You didn’t know what to say?” His voice rising despite himself. “That’s your excuse?”

“If you only knew how complicated—”

This was like a bad dream. A hysterical laughter rose inside him, barely checked. “So complicated you could tell Garrus, and Cerberus, and god knows who else, but I didn’t even rate a fricking email?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Scrambling now, the beginnings of panic. His Nathaly never panicked. “Please don’t do this. If you’d just let me—”

“Did you break into my apartment?” he demanded, running right over her attempts to explain.

Anger sparked. “How could you ever believe that?”

“How could you ever work for Cerberus?”

“I’m not working for them!” Shouting now, herself. “They kept me as a lab rat for two years!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job acting like it.” Unable to check his sarcasm for all the credits in the galaxy, and not particularly trying. “Painting the shuttle shows real commitment.”

By now everyone was staring. His squad, her team, a few of the colonists who crawled out of hiding to see what all the fuss was about.

She ran a hand over her hair. He flashed back to the million times he’d seen her do it before, smoothing the long strands off her face while she tried to reign in her temper or think through a new challenge. And in particular remembering when she got all those tiny glass shards imbedded in her scalp and threatened the Noverian doctor when he tried to cut it off to get a better look. 

That was when he said the second. “Hell, forget Akuze. The Nathaly I knew would’ve been fully willing to kill every last member of Cerberus for chopping off her hair.”

For just a second, she was stricken. For a second she was herself again, in all her insecurity, and he stood in horror of himself. “That’s not fair.”

“I… I know.” He looked away. “I’m sorry. But, Nathaly, this is… unimaginable.” 

And because she was Nathaly, she didn’t forgive quite that easily. “I’m dead, remember? I wasn’t looking at a lot of options.”

Alenko took a breath. And then another, to quell his growing outrage. “You had at least one more. You still do.”

She crossed her arms. Stubborn to the last. “And what’ that?”

He was beyond exasperated. “Come back. Report in. Tell the Alliance what happened.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. Alenko continued to stare, waiting without expectation, sure she would refuse. Cerberus had her now. She saw, and her face closed up. He was surprised to feel his heart clench at that sudden frost. “And what good would that do, exactly? For me or anyone else?”

But he mouth ran on without him, as it rarely did. Feeling himself skidding out of all control. “Heaven forbid the great Commander Shepard, spectre of the Citadel, ever be accountable to anyone but herself.”

“I have never been like that.” Debatable, but she didn’t let him get a word in, gesturing at the ruins of the colony. “Look at this. The Alliance can’t fix this. And someone has to.”

“Bullshit. The Alliance—”

She interrupted. “You’re right. It’s not can’t. It’s won’t. Because politics is more important than people.”

That was the moment he gave up on calm entirely. “They sent me here to figure out what was happening.”

“No, they sent you here to fuck around with a defense cannon. I don’t like Cerberus. But I’m using them to do something about this situation. The Alliance would stick me in a lab, if I’m lucky, or in the brig if I’m not. Who would that help?” 

He scoffed, incredulous. Honestly, covering for the sting that came with knowing it was the truth, and in no mood to hear it. “You know, whatever else Cerberus did to you, at least you’re not a clone. Nobody but Nathaly could be this brain-dead stubborn.”

“And nobody but you could have such a self-righteous sense of morality,” she spat back.

Alenko stiffened. He knew her every soft spot. And she knew all of his. And that, right there, was a direct strike at his underbelly. The lone light of objectivity left in his mind whispered he possibly deserved it, and he wasn’t in a mood to hear that, either.

Her words hung in the air. Thirty seconds passed without anyone saying a word.

Nathaly licked her lips. All the fury had abandoned her. “Kaidan, I—”

“Stop.” He rubbed his forehead. “Just stop.”

But she never stopped. Not even when it was the best thing to do. “I didn’t mean that. Really, I didn’t.”

Nothing she said could reach him. “How did you know the Collectors would hit Horizon?”

She swallowed. “It’s been impossible. I wish you’d let me—”

“How,” he said again, “Did you know the Collectors planned to attack Horizon?”

Her silence said it all. So he asked the follow-up. “How did the Illusive Man know to send you here? Or haven’t you thought about it?”

The only sound was the light breeze rippling the leaves. After almost a full minute, she said, “I didn’t ask.”

“I have things to do.” He didn’t check any of his harshness, cold and unforgiving as the void itself. Anything less hurt too much, with Nathaly standing here, alive, but twisted to some Cerberus end. They corrupted absolutely everything they touched. And now they’d taken away the only thing that mattered after promising to give it back. “Somebody human put up the jamming tower. It’ll all be in my report. Maybe the navy will buy your story, but don’t believe for a second I do. God even knows what you are now, if you can stand here and tell me working with Cerberus is the right thing.”

He started towards the turret controls. Shepard stepped towards him, her voice low, angry as she’d ever been herself. But she was all fire. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To check what your people did to the gun, and then figure out how to help the survivors.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I’ve got a team, and a ship. I can help.”

“You’ve done enough.” He looked back at her. Tired. “Nathaly, just… just go.”

For a long moment, she held his eyes. But she was too proud, and looked away before he could see how wounded she really was. “Fine. Have it your way.”

She rounded up her team and stalked back to the shuttle. 

He watched her go. Nguyen seized the opportunity to start up again, demanding his attention, that he do something, that they couldn’t just let Cerberus leave. It was all static. Nathaly boarded the shuttle. The door shut. It lifted off the ground, powering up.

A wild impulse struck him, to run after it, bang on the side and ask her stay, to work it out, to just talk a little longer and find a way through this madness. But it wouldn’t do any good. So he forced his feet to stay put, even as her shuttle streaked through the sky. Widening the gulf between them, the dark waters of Cerberus rushing to fill every void.


End file.
